


Gods Don't Bleed

by BoWritesStuff



Series: Marvel Oneshots! [2]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-16
Updated: 2018-08-16
Packaged: 2019-06-28 09:03:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15704067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoWritesStuff/pseuds/BoWritesStuff





	Gods Don't Bleed

No one else knows yet. He thought to himself as he walked through the halls of the palace, desperately trying to keep a calm face. He stared at the floor, as he walked, too acutely aware of every single person he passed. His skin was prickling and he was sure that everyone could see his secret on his face. 

It could stay like this, just like it had always been. Although Loki had never been the center of attention, it was much better than… this. Whatever “this” may be. 

He could pretend that nothing happened. He can keep up the act that he was the second most loved son of Odin. Not just a tool to try and make peace between two waring worlds, not just a long kept, shameful secret that Odin kept, not just...

Loki swallowed thickly. He couldn’t even bring himself to think it. How could Odin betray him like this? Was it easy? Because Loki wasn’t his actual son?

A frost giant. 

An insult. A horrifying creature that haunts children’s nightmares. A loud noise that sends veterans into terrified, confused frenzies. That’s what a frost giant is. Many Asgardians never see one in the flesh, but still, the effects of the creatures can be seen in every single person. 

Frost giants weren’t real things. They couldn’t be. They were like mythic creatures that adults told their children about to try to keep them inside when it got dark. The villains that were destined to crumble under the strength and bravery of the heros. 

And to know that he was one. And not only that, he was the son of Laufey, the late ruler of the frost giants. He made the last turn in the hallway, and he saw the door to his room. He dropped any attempts at looking calm, and ran to the door, slamming it shut and locking it. 

His breaths came in loud heaves at first, and then,to his dismay, in sobs. 

You will not cry over such flimsy accusations. Loki thought fiercely. Maybe if he just thought about it like it wasn’t real, it wouldn’t be. But he couldn’t help it and he for a few moments he was sure that he was going to collapse. His sobs made it far too difficult to breathe. Blots of purple and blacks started to eat away at his vision, his chest feeling tight. He leaned on the door, trying for several moments to gain control over his breathing. 

When he finally was able to breathe normally, he noticed a stinging pain on his forearms. It took him a moment to realize that it was him. His nails were digging into his skin, and when he pulled his hands to his sides, he caught a glimpse of crescent moon shaped indentations that he left. 

He tried to focus on the room around him, hoping that being in such a familiar place might soothe his nerves. As his gaze darts from one object to the next, he can’t help but only feel more angry. He storms over to the bed, desperately trying to hold back tears. 

It was all a lie. It was all fake. All an illusion. 

He touches the sheets on his bed, half expecting his hand to fade through it. It didn’t feel real. 

He didn’t feel real. 

A sudden pain in his left forearm made him glance down. The five places where he dug his nails into his arms were pink and irritated, but it shouldn’t be hurting that much. There was an ache that felt like it was in his bones. He stared down at his arm. 

Not again. Not after so long. His pale skin always made it a little easier to hide the thin scars that criss crossed his forearm and wrists, but now… it felt unbearable again. 

It would be so easy to just wrap his fingers around his dagger and to slice everything away, to block out the mental pain with a physical substitution. It would be so easy. He felt his right hand twitch towards the sheath where he kept the weapon. 

And he reached down to his belt, feeling the leather that wrapped the handle of it, and he pulled it out, the metallic, cold sound of steel on leather could be heard. 

He held it up, so close to him. It would be so easy…

It only took him a split second of doubt for him to throw the dagger. He followed it with his eyes, watched it spin in the air and reflect the evening light on it’s metallic blade. It hit a target, the far wall of his bedroom, with a solid thunk.

He walked backwards, his gaze never leaving the knife, like he was afraid that it might fly towards him. His back gently bumped the wall, and he slid to the floor. 

He wasn’t going to hurt himself. 

He wasn’t going to fall back to his bad habits. 

He didn’t want to see the blood. 

Because gods don’t bleed.


End file.
